


Sir

by Elentari07



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Blindfolds, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, Sex Toys, Spanking, Subspace, Temperature Play, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 04:32:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7876648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elentari07/pseuds/Elentari07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The underwear set is waiting for you when you get home.  It’s a simple set, lacy and blue, his favorite color.  You knows exactly what that means.  It’s their universal sign…”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sir

The underwear set is waiting for you when you get home. It’s a simple set, lacy and blue, his favorite color. You knows exactly what that means. It’s their universal sign. He bought the set for you back when this all started. When he finally understood just how deep your need to be owned ran. And when he understood just how desperately he needed to control in turn. Now it’s almost second nature for them. So when you put on the lingerie, or the set is waiting for you on the bed, you know he’s in charge tonight. No questions asked.

Quickly, you shed your clothes and puts them neatly away. While you’re at it, you tidy the room and unmake the bed, preparing it for the night. You know he likes to jump right in once you get started. You put on the bra and panties and let your hair down. Feeling ready, you cautiously head towards the living room where you find him sitting on the couch, reading the newspaper and drinking a glass of scotch.

“Turn your back to me,” he commands, barely glancing up from the paper. Swallowing, you situate yourself directly in front of his feet and obey. Behind you, he stands and you hear the soft rustle of fabric and the whir of gears and plates shifting as he unknots his tie and removes it from around his neck.

“Give me your wrists.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you put your wrists behind your back.

He ties the tie around them securely, and then places a gentle hand at the center of your back. 

“Kneel.”

Heart hammering in your chest, you drop to your knees.

He walks around to your front and gently runs his flesh hand through your hair, gently caressing and tugging at the loose strands. “I want you to stay right here. If you become uncomfortable, you will tell me. Color, Doll?”

“Green, sir.” You respond swiftly, using your standard coded words of green for go, yellow for slow down and check in, and red for stop. This is the signal to him that you are very much looking forward to the evening ahead.

He walks away to fetch Steve’s sketchbook from the table and returns to sit on the chair opposite your kneeling frame. “Turn a little more toward me,” he orders, and then begins to draw.

He’s no artist compared to Steve, but he will occasionally dabble. You think Sam suggested it initially and Steve encourages it. Secretly, you believe he just finds it useful for moments like these.

You focus on your breath, keeping still. It’s not the first time you’ve posed for him, the taut string of attention grounding you and heightening your thrill simultaneously. You keep your eyes down, almost demure, because seeing him watch you so intensely is overwhelming. It’s better with your eyes down. You know his gaze is on you, and that keeps you anchored, allowing you to drop deeper into the quiet and blissful space this kind of play permits you.

You wouldn’t dare move without permission, and that’s part of the appeal. You know that you could, you could tell him not tonight and walk right out of the room. Do whatever you want. But it isn’t the physical power that he has over you, it’s the emotional.

“Very good, baby.” He says, rising after an indeterminable amount of time. He places the new sketch on the table, away from your eyes. You’ve never actually seen anything he draws. That’s not what this is about. “How about a reward for your patience and good behavior?”

You blink up at him slowly, stomach coiling in anticipation.

“Rise.” He commands, and he grasps your bound arms and you struggle to stand. He holds you steady until your cramped legs begin to loosen and he knows you can stand on your own. 

Only then does he release your arms and sit on the floor, back against the couch.

“Come here, Doll.” He coaxes you to his slouched form and gently guides your legs to stand apart on either side of his torso. “These will need to come off for this part,” he murmurs, slowly and erotically sliding the panties down and guiding your legs to remove them completely.

“Now,” he begins, “under no circumstance are you to come without my permission. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir” You reply, breath already coming faster in anticipation.

“Good,” He grips either side of your legs and directs you to kneel on the couch cushions, his head firmly planted at the apex of your thighs. Instantly, his lips latch onto your clit and begin to suck.

Your head whips back in pleasure and you let out a mix between and gasp and a groan. Your arousal, which you were already keenly aware of while he sketched your bound form, now came crashing through your senses and you could feel your core dampening further with each suck.

The position was intoxicating. Not only was gravity your friend, constantly keeping some sensitive part of your pussy in contact with his glorious mouth, but the instability of having your arms bound behind your body meant he was completely in control. The temperature difference between his flesh arm and this prosthesis causes goosebumps to crawl across your skin. Surely you would have collapsed backwards already if it wasn’t for his strong arms gripping and steering your thighs. You were completely at his mercy and he knew it. He attacked your core with everything he had, licking and sucking at your clit, and moving his mouth downward, allowing his mouth and tongue to lick at your folds and thrust into your hole as his nose bumped your clit.

It doesn’t take long for these feelings to begin to overwhelm you. “Please sir,” you pant, “please may I come.”

“No,” he growls, not allowing his mouth to separate from your folds, the vibrations running up your spine and adding another element to your pleasure. “Don’t you dare come, baby. Not until I say you can.”

You’re so close, you can feel your release coiling at the base of your spine, and you know you’re only seconds away. You could hold off, probably, you think, but… you’ve never really defied him before. And if it could earn you a punishment? You think of what it’d feel like to have him angrily manhandle you over his lap, spank your ass, and suddenly you realize you’re a breath away from coming.

You panic, suddenly. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, no no no no SIR, I’m gonna I’m - “ and that’s it, it’s all over, the coil in your belly is snapping and you’re coming all over his face. Instantly, all movement below you ceases and your shoulders drop and you tremble, both with aftershocks and anticipation. You have no idea what he’s going to do to you for this transgression, and the ideas going through your head are delicious.

“Oh baby,” he chides, “coming without permission?” And then you feel it. He hasn’t moved his head from between your legs, and his mouth is still moving along your right thigh. And he’s smiling. A wide smile at that. And you know at that moment you were doomed from the start. He was never planning to give you permission. Punishment was always on the table for tonight. Your whole body shivers again as a new wave of arousal washes through you.

Swiftly, you are pushed away from his head and away from his body, giving him room to stand. You are turned and manhandled into your bedroom, wrists still bound behind you.

He tosses you to land on your back on the center of the bed. Slowly but efficiently he begins to disrobe, leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor. “I have half a mind to just jerk off and not let you touch. Leave you tied on this bed covered in my come.” His cock is half hard and he takes it in hand, stroking himself slowly, teasingly to hardness. “Or bending you over my knee and spanking your ass for disobeying me.”

You shudder at that, and bite your lip, trying to keep from smiling at the thought.

“Maybe I’ll do both,” he continues. “Then maybe, since you seem to like coming so much, maybe I’ll make you come over and over again, until you scream.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the thought and you stifle a groan.

“No,” he muses, almost talking to himself. “I think I’ve done enough work for now. I think it’s time for you to earn what you take.”

At that he rolls you to the side to give him space to lay in the center of the bed. He then rolls you on top of him and directs you to straddle his waist.

“Ride me,” he commands, folding his arms behind his head in a pose clearly telling you to do all the work. His steel blue eyes twinkled mischievously and a patented smirk graced his features.

Biting back a whimper, you struggle to work his throbbing cock between your folds, working to get the position just right with your arms still bound. When you are finally certain you have him placed correctly, you slowly begin to sink down on his hard length.

“All the way in,” he orders when you take too long.

Thrusting into the hilt, you whine and shudder at how perfect he fills you up, so big and hot inside of you. He groans, moving his hands to grip your waist tightly, holding you in place. “Feel good, baby?”

“Yes sir,” you shiver, your walls throbbing and tightening around his length. “Please, please may I move?”

“Go on,” he says, voice a low, lusty rumble. “Fuck me hard.”

You keen at that, hips snapping forward as you impale yourself again and again. It feels amazing, especially with Bucky below you, murmuring filth and encouragement.

“Just like that,” he says, “Love the way you look right now. So gorgeous and needy, all that perfect tight heat around my cock.” His hands help guide your movements at your hips. He groans again, eyes falling closed and head tilting back in pleasure, and you feel his cock twitch inside you.

“Please sir,” you beg, your pleasure getting the better of you again, “please may I come.”

His eyes snap open and he almost snarls his “no” in response. His hands cease all movement of your joined bodies and he swiftly flips your position, removing himself from your quivering pussy in the process. You whimper in response and he gets up briefly from the bed to retrieve your restraints from their drawer.

“Do you know why you can’t come, little girl?” He asks you as he unties your wrists and resecures them to the bedposts using the restraints.

“Because I came without permission.” You answered, watching him with growing anticipation as he worked.

“That’s right,” he replied. “And only good girls get to come. And have you been a good girl, doll?”

“No sir,” You whimpered.

“Very good,” he coos. “Now, I’ve had a hard day so I’m going to go shower,” his fingertips stroke up from your waist, over your still-clad breasts, and up to your lips, “you're going to lay right here, and think about me in the shower, naked and touching myself. Understand?”

Your mouth goes dry and you open and shut it a couple times in an effort to find a response. “Yes, sir.” you manage.

“Good girl,” he drops his lips down and captures your mouth in a kiss, the first of the evening. You moan into the kiss and enjoy the feeling of his lips and tongue against yours, his stubble tickling your cheeks slightly.

He eventually pulls away and rummages in the bedside drawer for a minute before coming back with a familiar scrap of fabric.

“This should keep you occupied while I’m gone.” First he takes the tie that had bound your wrists and wraps it around your head, blocking your vision. Then, he moves to pull the pair of panties up your legs, tapping your hip to allow them to sit fully on. He takes a moment to adjust the vibrator inside the panties, ensuring it is nestled between your folds sitting directly against your clit.

“You are not to come. I’ll know if you don’t listen. Understand, baby girl?” You can feel him watch you swallow slowly.

“Yes sir,” your voice trembles slightly.

“Good girl,” he replies, “when I return we can discuss your punishment,” and without further ceremony he turns the vibrator straight to it’s highest setting and walks out the door, heading not towards your ensuite bathroom, but towards the guest bathroom across the house.

With a huff your head falls back onto the pillow and you try to distract your thoughts. This isn’t the punishment?!? The vibrations are neverending against your clit, sending tingles and pulses throughout your body. You have been on edge for what feels like an eternity and you know that if you so much as shifted your hips upward you could easily use that small bullet vibrator tucked into the panties to get off again. But your hips remain motionless on the bed. You wanted to be a good girl, you wanted to show him that you’ve earned his trust and praise.

You were worked into a near frenzy. Never ending pleasure now coarsed through your body but you denied yourself release. You sat there suspended for what felt like hours, your moans near constant with the occasional half sob mixed in.

You were so delirious with pleasure you didn’t even notice him come back into the room.

“Look at my angel,” you hear him near the foot of the bed, “so good for me.”

“Please sir,” you beg “please let me come.”

“Tell you what, baby,” he palms the remote, kicking the vibrator down a couple notches. “You can come right now and then I’ll spank you twenty times. But if you can wait until I’m fucking you I’ll only spank you ten times. What do you say?”

Unfortunately, the idea of him spanking you decided it for you. He bumped the vibrator back up slightly and with a shudder you came again, writhing against your bonds.

“Twenty it is.” He chuckled softly.

While you are still soft and pliant from your orgasm, he unhooks your restraints, removes your bra and panties, and maneuvers you onto your belly and coaxes you onto all fours.

“Color, baby.” It takes you a few moments for his words to register. “Baby? I won’t go on until I hear your color.”

“Green,” you finally moan, voice sounding raspy in your own ears.

“Good girl,” he praises, “and what do you say if you need to stop?”

Even as you say the word, you know you won’t need it. You never have, not with him. When you began playing he had insisted on it, just in case, but you had never been worried. “Red.”

He smiles down at you, “my god angel, you’re so beautiful.” You huff loudly at that, rolling your eyes behind your blindfold. Quick as anything he reaches out and grabs you by the hair, pulling your head back sharply. “You take a compliment when I give it to you.”

Inhaling softly, you hold back a smile, “thank you.”

You can almost hear him raising his eyebrow. “Thank you, what?”

“Thank you sir,” you amend.

He runs his palm slowly, deliberately, over your ass, first one cheek, then the other as he talks. “Twenty,” he reminds you, “and you’re going to count them off for me, after each one.”

You squirm, both excited and frightened by the idea of him hitting you and he grabs one round globe and squeezes it firmly. “None of that. You’re going to take whatever I give you like a good girl, isn’t that right?”

Before you can answer, he withdraws his flesh hand and brings it back down on your ass, hard, with a stinging slap. You’re not ready for it, and your body jerks. The palm of his metallic hand smooths over the spot he smacked, soothing in a little circle. “Go on,” he prompts.

“O - one,” you stutter out.

“Good,” he murmurs, before bringing his hand back down and spanking you again, this time on the alternating cheek.

“Two,” you hiss out. He raises his hand a third and a fourth time.

And on and on it goes, mixing up the slaps so you can’t anticipate the rhythm but always using his flesh hand to ensure he’ll never hurt you too badly. By 11 you can feel your arousal dripping down your legs, and by 18, tears are leaking past the blindfold down your cheeks.

After 19 he pauses. “You’ve got one more to go for me, baby.” He soothes. “One more. You know why you deserve this, right?”

“Yes,” you sob out.

“Because…?” He prompts.

Sniffling, you manage to get out, “I - I came. Without permission.”

“That’s right,” he hums. “And why was that bad?”

You can barely speak, just whine, but he answers the question for him.

“It was bad because you’re mine, and because your orgasms are mine, and I decide when to give them to you, or if you get any at all.” He squeezes your ass again, this time digging his fingers into the reddened flesh, making you yelp out. “I’m gonna take good care of you, baby. I’m never gonna give you anything you don’t ask me for, nothing you don’t need. And you need this, don’t you, baby?” He doesn’t wait for a reply, just brings his hand down again for the final blow and you howl.

“Twenty, oh god, oh god.” Your backside feels lit up, sore, and tight, and it’s exhilarating.

“You gonna be good for me now, baby? Because I’m not done with you yet.” He puts his arms underneath you and flips you on your side effortlessly.

Your heart is still racing, body alight with sensation.

Kissing your forehead, he asks, “how are you sweetheart? Give me a color.”

“Green, green,” you breathe, not wanting this to end. “Sir, please.”

He nods, “Okay baby. You wanna come so bad that you won’t listen to me when I tell you you can’t, well, I’m gonna make you come for me.” He lies on his side, spooning you closely, “again… and again… and again.”

You can feel the thick length of his cock bobbing against your back. Suddenly, your clit is alight with sensation again as he brings a bullet vibrator against you. Clearly he had taken the time to gather some preparations while you were still bound to the bed. You try to be good, but it feels so much better to give in and be bad. Consequently, it doesn’t take much before you’re close again, coming with a shout and a shudder.

He gives a rumbling noise of approval. “Tell me what you want.”

You don’t need long to consider. Through the haze of your pleasure you know what he’s asking. “Overpower me. I want to feel completely at your mercy. Safe and owned.”

He flips you on your back again and grabs your wrist, pinning them back into their restraints. He kisses you again, his tongue flicking into your mouth, throat making low, possessive little growls. He drags his lower lip across your jugular, latching onto your pulse point and sucking. He has this trick of pulling in suction with his lips while his tongue flickers maddeningly across the skin, and it’s absolutely unfair. He almost always leaves marks. You’ll tease him when all of this is over but you both know you love it. He loves to see the physical markings of his love, possessive and primal. You love the same, love to have physical marks on your body that show you belong to him. Marks that last a lot longer on your skin than when you try to give them to your super soldier.

“You’re mine, you know that?” He asks, a light fingertip grazes down your side. It tickles just slightly and that makes you twitch.

“Yes sir.”

“Good,” he says, licking your nipple. “You look beautiful like this, baby. Tied up and flushed. Completely lost to pleasure.”

You can almost hear the grin in his words, and you blush harder at how good his approval feels. “All yours.”

“All mine,” he agrees, running his fingertips down your side.

And then ice touches your nipple and you yelp in surprise. “Fuck!” He must have grabbed the bowl of ice out of the kitchen when he went to shower. He really was prepared tonight.

He laughs at your reaction, rubbing the ice against your nipple for a few more seconds before he lifts it off and replaces it with his mouth.

“Shit,” you gasp, all of the nerves in your nipple light up from the bite of the ice and the relative searing heat of his tongue. Taking a few seconds to flick his tongue over your nipple, he pulls back with one last kiss to the skin before repeating the process with your other nipple.

He groans, sinking his mouth down to play with one, even while his hand holds the ice over your other nipple. He keeps this up for a few more rounds, and then starts trailing the ice down your chest, drawing torturous patterns over your belly and hips. “Good?”

“Yes,” you whine, and the piece of ice slides down to the crease of where your hip meets your pelvis, gliding along the lips of your pussy. You yelp, arching fully off the bed and feeling genuinely conflicted about whether to grind into it or pull away.

“Part your legs,” he instructs.

And suddenly with one thrust he’s inside you. The contrast of the cold ice and his hot cock now deeply inside you makes you mewl in intense pleasure. It feels so good and you need it so much.

“All for you, angel. I’ll take care of you, I promise.” His pace is slow and deep now, savoring the sensations and encouraging his own arousal to build. “Look at you. Still so wet and needy, wanting it so bad. I ought to just leave you here like this, all night, come in and use you when I want, however I want, and you can’t touch me at all.” At this suggestion, you make a completely undignified noise imagining it, lying here waiting for minutes or even hours, him slipping into you whenever the mood struck him. Your eyes roll back in your head behind the blindfold.

Finally he rips the blindfold off and you blink suddenly up at him, your eyes meeting the deep lust in his steely blue gaze. His thrusting continues in a steady rhythm and then your walls clamp down on his cock as he brings the vibrator back to your clit. Over your cries, the constant buzzing, and the slap of your skin on his, he pounds his cock into your pussy and you hear in your ear “don’t you dare come yet.”

With your pussy so hot and slick around his cock, so tight and wrapped around him perfectly, he continues thrusting. His balls are drawn up tight against his skin and he feels you clamp down on him even tighter, he pushes the vibrator even firmer against your clit.

The second that he pushes the vibrator against your aching clit, you shriek out “Sir! Please, please let me come!”

He groans loud and long, no longer able to hold off his own orgasm. “That’s it baby, come for me. Come again.” And then you feel his cock throb as he comes deep in your pussy.

With a wordless moan your entire body shatters apart.

When you drift back, the restraints are all gone and you are cleaned up and wrapped in his arms.

“You’re so gorgeous, baby,” he’s murmuring, kissing your face, “so sweet and beautiful. I love you so much.”

You sigh happily and drift, allowing the glow of his praise to carry you away.

For a time there is only bliss, his hands, and the thudding of his own heart. When you are next aware there’s a glass of water waiting for you on the nightstand and you’re bundled in the comforter tucked in close to his chest. You lose yourself for another few minutes to the hypnotic rise and fall of his breathing. Eventually your surroundings begin to come back into focus. Little details sharpen amid the fuzzy haze. His right hand strokes up and down your back. In between kisses you can hear his murmured “love you… love you, baby.”

You rest your hand over his where it wraps around your middle.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah, Doll?”

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> So fun fact: This story was actually request by my hubby. He asked me for my absolute fantasy and I wrote this. His copy is a little more generic (aka minus our favorite Super Soldier) but don’t tell me you can’t envision Buck loving every moment of this!  
> Hope you enjoyed the probably too intimate view into my world...


End file.
